


Sweetness Down In My Soul

by zetsubonna



Series: Caquelon [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Comeplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/zetsubonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon Asked: I keep going back to your messy prompts because they're SO GOOD I am full of both happyfeelings and questions. Does Steve get all turned on/completely gone if the messes are in his ass? Is the messes very much a pre-war thing, or do they happen post!WS still? Did Bucky ever dirty talk about how he was going to fill tiny!Steve up and see how much his sweet little ass could take before  it overflowed? Did Steve pull the same damn line on him after the serum?</p>
<p>Z Replied: Yes. Both. Yes. Yes. Here are Bucky's thoughts on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetness Down In My Soul

It started like that, Bucky recalls, watching Steve’s toes curl when he reaches back to wash himself with the soapy washcloth, his right hand occupied with his hair, the left hanging idle by his side because the damn fingers could catch sometimes if he wasn’t careful and he was too busy watching Steve’s work into the crack of his perfect, tight little ass to be careful.

 

It started with Steve just being a little bit into Bucky’s messes, because they were new to fooling around, and screwing was Steve’s idea in the first place, Bucky could have been happy forever with jerking each other off, Steve’s unbelievable  _mouth_ was more than enough beyond his wildest dreams, but Steve had suggested Bucky slip it to him, and what was Bucky gonna say? No? To  _that_?

Bucky was romantic, not stupid.

Steve would get real smug after, real proud of himself, and when he figured out he could have Bucky moaning his head off just by  _asking_  Bucky to come in him, much less  _telling_ ,  _ordering_  or  _begging_ , well. Like a lot of things with Steve, it got out of hand after a while.

 

_“Y’like that?”_ Bucky remembered.  _“Y’like it, Buck?”_

It was a challenge, obviously, and if Steve wanted it bad enough to challenge him like this, he must really, really want Bucky to start in on it, so Bucky had.

_“Damn right, I like it. You’re mine, ain’tcha? Ain’tcha, baby boy? All mine, treat you just right, give you, give you all I got. Give it to you when, whenever you want it, whenever you ask, ‘til it, ‘til it won’t fit no more and you, you drip when you, when you try to stand up. Fill you, fill you full ‘til your, your damn belly, fucking feels like, mm, feels like a damn, damn sloshing pitcher, ‘til I can tip you over n’ pour you out, you little shit. S’what you want?”_

 

Bucky was blushing hard and sweating, dizzy and starting to get light-headed from coming three damn times already, but Steve wailed, especially when Bucky ground into him, like he was real close, and started shaking like a leaf. He started keening, however quiet, just  _wailing_ for it, and Bucky learned he was a Hell of a lot closer than he’d thought. He’d never heard Steve get so loud, and he’d  _loved_  that.

He’d come so hard he’d almost blacked out when Steve started bearing down and squeezing, which Bucky personally didn’t think he ought to have been able to do after being fucked four times in a weekend.

Steve knew what got Bucky going, and the more he knew, the more he abused it. Once he figured out Bucky got off on sneaking into alleys and kissing, that even a quick little closed-mouth kiss on the corner of his lips could get him hard and make him walk faster to get home, once Steve  _knew_  that, it wasn’t safe. He’d try to find at least one alley for them to duck down every time they went someplace together if he was in the mood. What was Bucky gonna say? ‘ _No, Steve, don’t kiss me, you can’t kiss me here, not in DUMBO, where we’ve seen guys do a Hell of a lot more than kiss in brighter sunlight than this?_ ’

Bucky was romantic, not stupid.

 

Steve liked looking at Bucky, he liked touching Bucky, he liked knowing that, while Bucky was still going out with girls and kissing girls and taking girls dancing, he was mostly coming home at night, coming home as soon as the dance hall closed, sometimes earlier, because he was, Steve eventually accepted, fucking crazy about Steve, and he liked his girls, but most of them were nice girls, good girls, and good girls didn’t get into heavy petting, but Bucky did, and he wanted to climb into Steve’s lap on their half-busted sofa and get petted both heavy and light, Steve’s fingers combing through his hair while the radio station wound down for the night and Bucky kissed Steve’s hands and let him work the cream out of his hair so he could sleep better.

Bucky was romantic, sure, but he didn’t mind it when Steve had a good night and a good day and his petting got interrupted by Steve slowly going hard in the periphery of Bucky’s vision, even though Steve would half the time only agree to let Bucky try to take care of his hard-ons as a consequence of Steve taking care of Bucky’s.

Bucky figured that was just fine. Sure, that was fine. He’d wrap his mouth around Steve’s cock, he was still learning how and wasn’t taking to it like Steve had, like a duck to water, no, Bucky took a while to learn how to give a fella a suck job, and Steve’s cock was luckily just perfect for practice, back then. After the serum, hell, after the serum and now, Steve’s fucking dick was a goddamn breathing hazard, especially if he was holding Bucky’s hair, not that Bucky minded, particularly. Steve was better at keeping his hips down now than he had been when he’d first gotten bigger.

God, when Steve had first gotten bigger, the first few times they’d fooled around after the serum, even before Bucky had wholly accepted Peggy as more than just Steve’s crush, as the gal who would have, had things kept on like they were, been _Steve’s gal_ , and wasn’t that a kick in the head? Even then, when Steve had first gotten bigger and every one of his nerve endings was jangly and raw, when his cock had become perfect and big and responsive and Bucky or Peggy could _look_ at him wrong and he’d be hard, Bucky could get a hand down the front of his trousers while humming _Mack the Knife_ , and Steve would go off like a cheap bottle rocket before anybody ever saw.

Bucky would lick his fingers and wink and Steve would be ready to go all over again, less than five minutes. He was a little better about it now, probably because he was melancholy and shell-shocked, which Bucky could figure had messed him right back up how he was before with the anemia and diabetes and heart trouble, but messed up for new-and-improved Steve was normal for everybody else, and maybe it was mean, but thank whatever God might exist for that, because Bucky liked being able to walk through a room and not get pinned to furniture by a horny fella who knew how to push all his buttons. Bucky couldn’t, half the time these days, remember what his own goddamn buttons were, just that he’d always been more interested in the courting side of things than most other guys he knew.

Unless it was Steve. Steve got under Bucky’s skin and itched. Bucky could mumble something about slipping him a quick one and giving him something to keep him warm, and Steve’s eyes would light up.

 

“You watching me?” Steve asks, looking back over his shoulder, and Bucky shrugged, gesturing to his own cock.

“Look like I’m watching you? Gonna try and tell me that wasn’t a show, next. Quit showing off, ‘fore I get shampoo in my eyes.”

Snorting, Steve let Bucky by, giving him the shower stream, licking his lips when Bucky gestured for the washcloth. “Oughtta slip it to you,” he offers, squinting, and Bucky smirks a little even as his ears color. “Fill you up with it until you’re leaking and I can tip you over and pour you out.”

“Just a hug and a hand job, thanks,” Bucky declines dryly, even though he’s hiding a grin by looking up at the shower head instead of back at Steve. “I ain’t as big into messes as you, punk. Trying to get clean here, anyway.”

“Spoilsport,” Steve complains.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "I Need A Little Sugar In My Bowl," originally performed by Bessie Smith, though I am also fond of the Nina Simone version.
> 
> Dedicated to Cubie, aka [ForABlueEyedMiracle](http://forablueeyedmiracle.tumblr.com), who is lately my Steve muse and does a bang up job of making me feel like a princess and a celebrity.


End file.
